Chapter 54: “Papa Believes”

Touko chose the lie carefully.

She did not rush it. She waited until the house was already unbalanced, until the truth was tired and loose around the edges. Lies worked best when they sounded like relief.

It happened on a quiet evening. One of those nights where nothing felt urgent enough to matter.

Kei came home late. Not unusually late. Just enough to carry the weight of the day into the entryway. He loosened his tie, set his bag down, and sighed in a way that meant he wanted the world to stop asking things of him.

Yui was out. A dinner with an old friend. Rare. Convenient.

Touko was at the table, homework finished. Rurika sat across from her, hands folded, posture small.

Kei poured himself water. “How was today?”

“Normal,” Touko said. Her voice was even. Comfortable. “Papa, can I ask you something?”

Kei smiled at the sound of it. “Of course.”

Touko tilted her head slightly, like she was choosing words. “You’ve seemed worried lately. About work.”

Kei hesitated. “A little. Nothing you need to think about.”

Touko nodded. “I know. I just thought… maybe I caused it.”

That stopped him.

“What?” Kei turned fully toward her now. “Why would you think that?”

Touko lowered her eyes. She let her shoulders drop a fraction. Not enough to look guilty. Enough to look considerate.

“I overheard you talking to Mama,” she said softly. “About someone at work. The transfer.”

Kei’s expression shifted. Confusion, then concern. “Touko, that’s not—”

“I didn’t mean to listen,” she continued. “But I thought maybe… because of everything that happened with Rurika… you’re being careful around people. And maybe it’s making things harder for you.”

Rurika’s breath caught.

Touko felt it. Did not look.

Kei frowned. “This isn’t your responsibility.”

“I know,” Touko said quickly. “But I wanted to be honest.”

Honest. The word settled easily in her mouth.

Kei rubbed his neck. “Did something happen?”

Touko paused.

This was the moment.

She let just enough silence stretch between them. She counted three heartbeats. Then four.

“Rurika told me something,” Touko said.

Rurika looked up sharply.

Touko met her eyes.

Not a warning. Not a threat.

An invitation.

Kei’s brow furrowed. “Told you what?”

Touko glanced toward Rurika, then back at Kei. “She said… she’s been getting messages.”

Kei stiffened. “Messages?”

“From someone connected to your work,” Touko said carefully. “Nothing inappropriate. Just confusing. Late. Asking questions she didn’t understand.”

That wasn’t true.

It didn’t need to be.

Rurika swallowed.

Touko turned to her gently. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”

Rurika’s hands trembled.

She felt the room closing. She felt Touko’s presence like a wall at her back. She remembered every whispered reassurance. Every soft correction. Every reminder of what it meant to care.

Rurika nodded.

“I… I didn’t want to bother Papa,” she said quietly. “It felt wrong. I thought maybe it was my fault. Like I was causing trouble again.”

Kei’s face drained of color.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

Rurika’s voice cracked perfectly. “Because you already did so much for me.”

Touko watched the words land.

Kei knelt in front of her without thinking. “You are not trouble,” he said firmly. “Never think that.”

Rurika nodded, tears spilling. Touko had not instructed that part. It came naturally now.

Touko added softly, “I told her you’d understand. Papa always does.”

Kei looked up at Touko, something warm and painful in his eyes. “Thank you for telling me.”

Touko smiled.

Small. Relieved.

“I just didn’t want misunderstandings,” she said. “I know how rumors start.”

Kei stood, pacing once. “I’ll handle it. I promise. No one should be bothering you.”

He didn’t ask for names.

He didn’t ask for proof.

He didn’t doubt the shape of the story.

Because it made sense.

Because it aligned with his worry.

Because it gave him something to protect.

Touko felt it then.

The shift.

Trust didn’t shatter. It thinned. Became fragile. Easy to bend.

Yui came home later that night. Kei didn’t tell her everything. Just enough. He said he’d spoken to HR. That things were being clarified. That it was better this way.

Yui listened. Nodded. Trusted him.

Touko watched from the hallway.

Rurika lay awake, heart racing. She replayed the scene over and over. The way Kei’s voice softened. The way his hand rested briefly on her shoulder.

She felt sick.

She felt safe.

Both at once.

Touko returned to her room and opened her diary. She did not write the lie down. Lies didn’t need records. Only outcomes.

She wrote one sentence instead.

Papa believes me.

She closed the book.

Touko understood something then, with perfect clarity.

People thought lies were dangerous because they killed truth.

That wasn’t it.

Truth could survive almost anything.

Trust couldn’t.

Trust only needed a single fracture to become useful.

And Papa had handed it to her willingly.